Last Heart Beat
by XDracoMalfoysGirlX
Summary: Rowena Ravenclaw sits alone in the library pondering her life and the two betrayals that ultimately led to her death.


Last Heart Beat

The large library was dim and dusty, the heavy red drapes pulled across the windows blocking out the dusk. Four tall, slim, white candles burned silently in their holders on the mantel piece, bathing the small area of the room in a warm golden glow.

Her footsteps were loud on the polished wood floor of the library and the faint scent of lemon hung in the air from the polish used to shine the floor into a glassy surface.

Stopping before the table that housed the crystal decanter she poured herself a small glass of fire whisky, her hand trembled slightly knocking the glass and the decanter together, creating a sharp chime in the still room.

With a defined flick of her wrist she tipped the contents to the back of her throat, she felt the familiar burning sensation as the dark liquid entered her system, beginning the process of numbing the pain. Pouring herself another glass she turned towards the mantle piece and the large gilt mirror that sat above it.

She stood silently and surveyed her reflection. What she saw made her cringe. She was thin and pale, her collar bones perturbing alarmingly and the slanting cheek bones gave her face the appearance of being hollowed out. Her hazel eyes, once her best feature were dull, all the sparkle of life had vanished from them. Even her hair looked lifeless, the thick black waves curling around her shoulders and falling down her back in heavy ringlets.

The fact that she wore a white dress did not help her cause at all. She had been a beauty in her day, but now it seemed pointless, what had it brought her really? Nothing but misery. And she was the most intelligent witch of her time apparently!

She snorted, "Well, Rowena, if that's the case the world really is in trouble."

Taking a sip of her drink her other hand came up to touch the eagle pendant that sat on her chest. He was the creature of her house, one of the four that had been founded at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school that she had helped to create.

"Ravenclaw." She said softly, a house named for her, the one she had founded. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Rowena informed her reflection.

Tilting her head to the side she sighed heavily. "Coward, Rowena. Nothing but a coward."

Turning away from the haunted woman staring back at her, Rowena Ravenclaw sank down on the plush cream sofa to finish her drink. She surveyed the library, a room in which she had always felt comfortable, always felt at home. She liked books, always had. She liked the musty smell and the hidden secrets of the old ones. She liked the clean pages, clear ink and fresh ideas in the new ones.

Books had always given her hope, always given her the answers and had helped her many times over the years, as was their purpose. But she had down discovered a horrible fact. Books did not contain all of the answers!

"You let me down." She scolded the shelves of books. They didn't reply of course, but sat silently in their allotted spaces, gathering dust and waiting to be opened and useful once again.

"Your supposed to have all the answers, your supposed to tell me what to do. But you don't deal with the important things in life do you? You don't tell people what to do when their lost and alone. When they can't find a way to end the pain they're feeling."

Rowena closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Her neck ached, her whole body ached these days, weary from the stress and grime of daily living. Living had become a dirty business for her, it wasn't something that she wished to do any more. She'd had enough of living, two betrayal's were more than enough for one person to deal with in a lifetime.

Her eyes flickered to the painting sitting near her. She was there looking back at herself smiling, her eyes laughing in her youthful face. She was with her daughter Helena who was laughing as well, her arms wrapped around her neck, sitting with her cheek to cheek.

A sharp pain stabbed in her chest, turning the air in her lungs cold. Her daughter, her only child had betrayed her. Helena had stolen her precious diadem and disappeared into the world. It was a work of art, so pleasing to the eye, and powerful with it, bestowing wisdom to whomever should wear it.

Vaguely she thought she should have worn it at all times, never taken it off. Maybe then she would have been able to prevent her heart from shattering into pieces. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." She sang quietly to herself before snorting contemptuously. "And what is a woman's greatest treasure?" She asked the empty room. "Love. The love and heart of the man she loves, the man she would do anything in the world for, work her hands raw for, the man who is usually not worth the time and effort."

Rowena finished her drink and placed it carefully on the small table beside her. She could keep telling herself that but it never worked. She always felt the same pain, the pain that slashed through her chest like a knife. The unbelievable pain that came with betrayal. The pain that never went away and constantly hung around in the deepest corners of your heart no matter what you did.

She smoothed her hands over the soft satin of the white dress she wore. Tears prickled behind her eyes but Rowena refused to shed them yet again. This gown, this beautiful gown, with the lace at the throat and the boned bodice was her wedding gown, the dress she would have worn on the happiest day of her life.

"Well I wore it alright, not exactly the happiest day of my life. More like the day from hell." She commented aloud, brushing out the bunching around her knees. Leaning forward a little she smiled at the toes of her white satin shoes that peeked out from the hem of her gown. The full set, the dress, the shoes, the veil, the flowers. Everything, she'd had everything and it was all for nothing.

"Waste of time and energy." She muttered heaving a deep sigh.

Rowena recalled that she had worn the diadem that day as well, small red roses entwined around it, nestling in the curls of her hair.

"Fat lot of good it did me too. I guess it doesn't really matter if I'm supposedly the most brilliant witch of my time or not. I suppose intelligence doesn't really have anything to do with a person's feelings, what their mind says and what are heart says are very rarely the same thing." She conceded.

It had been hard for a woman of such intelligence to admit to making such a dreadful mistake. Surely someone like her should have been able to see what was in front of her, should have been a better judge of character?

"Oh no," Rowena mocked herself. "You couldn't judge anyone could you? You had to go an get jilted in front of all your family and friends. You were the one left standing, a bride with no groom."

And didn't everyone just love it? The intelligent beauty left alone, dumped, cast aside like an old shoe with no thought or explanation, not even a hastily written apology!

"Oh, what's the point in harping back to the past like a sad old maid?" She muttered. It was done, it was over, it was forgotten. Forgotten by everyone except herself. The moment of clarity, when she realised she was alone was burned forever into her memory, the shame, the anger, the pitying faces around her; always in her heart, branded into her subconscious never to be forgotten and always to be picked over, re-opened, dissected at leisure, just to cause a new bout of fresh hurt and humiliation.

"And then came Helena." A heavy sigh escaped her pursed up lips and her eyebrows pleated into a frown. It was hard to accept that her daughter, her own flesh and blood had abandoned her through jealously.

The two people in the world that she had loved beyond anything had destroyed her, left her broken hearted and ever so weary of life. Rowena admitted that she had believed her daughter would turn out differently being brought up by herself alone, in a loving, stable home. Clearly she had been wrong.

A harsh laugh echoed around her, bouncing off the empty walls. "What's bread in the bone comes out in the blood." Rowena quoted. She sneered, at herself, at her blind stupidity. "Blood will out."

Her blood hadn't been strong enough, Helena had turned out to be her fathers daughter alright, and Rowena was sick of wondering if and when her child would come back. Helena was a woman grown now and she had disappeared into the world without her.

Rowena sighed softly and closed her heavy eyes. Life could be too much to bare for some people, she was one of those people. She was sick and tired of it all, of being alone, of being sad, of always hurting.

Her body was weak now, and her lonely heart no longer wished to go on beating. Rowena had felt it when she had woken that morning; felt that the end was near and she had welcomed it with open arms. Rowena did not fear death, she was one of those people who now feared to live, hating the surprises that lurked around the corners, more horrors to slap her in the face.

It was the exact reason she had put on her wedding gown this morning; today was now the happiest day of her life, she should wear the dress she had bought for such an occasion. And why she had come to the library; to end her days surrounded by her beloved books in a room full of knowledge. It fitted her personality.

Her breathing was slower, a hazy dreaminess creeping over her senses and Rowena smiled, a small smile of triumph that she had at least gotten through the trials life had thrown her. She had come out the other side, unfortunately not as a stronger person. But she had survived, that was the important thing.

She wasn't giving up now, she was simply leaving a harsh and cold reality behind. She was taking matters into her own hands, her own heart, her own body had decided to close down to the misery of the world and send her to a better place. Rowena was happy with that, a long sleep was what she needed, a new aspect to her life even if it was the afterlife.

Lifting her hand she pressed her slim fingers beneath her breast to her heart. The beating was weak and Rowena knew it wouldn't be long. "How ironic." She breathed, her broken heart was now saving her.

As her breathing turned shallow and her heart moved even slower in her chest Rowena could picture the headlines in The Daily Prophet the next day:

Rowena Ravenclaw Died Of A Broken Heart.


End file.
